Guardian of the Fountain (11 page)

      
“It’s at
the bottom of the bath, and on the key to unlock the door in the library.”

      
“Exactly! I
think it’s just how your brain pictures the secret. I think Franco was the one
in the hotel room the morning you became ill. I just don’t know what happened
to your necklace. Did he take it and give you something else, or did he
force-feed you the orange powder to try to kill you? That is something we may
never find out unless your memory comes back.”

      
“Do you
think María and Arturo heard me? I would hate to wake them up over something as
silly as a nightmare.”

      
“Don’t
worry. They sleep in an apartment over the garage. They wouldn’t be able to
hear you.”

      
“That’s
good.” Chrissie had stopped shaking. “Would you stay here with me until I fall
asleep?”

      
“If you’re sure
you want me to.” It warmed his heart that she needed him.

      
Chrissie
nodded as she rolled up one blanket and pulled back the other to the side, scooting
over to allow him space on the bed. She put the rolled-up blanket between them
and pulled the other blankets over the top. “Just as long as there’s no funny
business.”

Brant
chuckled. “I’ll take what I can get.” The rolled-up blanket struck him as
comical. They had shared a few romantic moments before she had gotten sick that
made the blanket barrier seem silly. He put his hands behind his head and
thought about Chrissie’s memory fragments coming back. Piecing the puzzle of
her memory back together again might be a little tricky. He could hear her
breathing slow down and her body settle into sleep. Chrissie amazed him,
defying everything thrown at her, and still being a ray of sunshine in his
life.

Chapter
14

      
The morning
light flooded into Chrissie’s room. After her issue with the nightmare had been
settled, she slept like a rock, not even dreaming. As she started to become
more aware of her surroundings, she could tell that her leg was wrapped over
the top of Brant, and the chastity blanket she had rolled up between them had
been stuffed to the bottom of her bed. Her head rested on his shoulder as he
lightly snored. It was the cutest snore she had ever heard.

      
As she
became more fully awake, the feeling crept in that she shouldn’t be in this
position with Brant. She hardly knew him. Gently lifting her leg, she rolled
off the bed in one swift motion. As soon as she stood, her head felt light and
dizzy. She half expected birds to start flying around her head like in the old
cartoons. Her stomach grumbled, and a brick that sat at the bottom of it
started to rise in her throat. She ran to the tiny bathroom adjoining her room
and shut the door just in time. She knelt down on the white tile and hugged the
porcelain toilet as she heaved her stomach’s contents.

      
A soft
knock came on the bathroom door. “Chrissie? Are you okay?” Brant called.

      
Chrissie
didn’t have time to answer. She was too busy puking. Brant took the non-answer
as his answer. He calmly walked in and held back her hair as she leaned over
the toilet.

When
she finished, she said, “Thanks, but you shouldn’t be in here. It’s
embarrassing, you seeing me like this.”
     

“Someone
needs to be here when you’re honking over the loo. I’m glad I was here. I can’t
let you out of my sight can’t I? I must wrap you in cotton and keep you close.”
Brant scooped Chrissie up in his arms and cradled her down the hallway to his
room. “Have you been vomiting and not telling us? That would be just like you,
to suffer in misery without telling a single soul.”

      
“I haven’t
since I got here.” If she was in any kind of joking mood, she would have
thought the previous statement of “honking over the loo” was completely
hilarious. The problem was that she wasn’t. Even the Brits weren’t very funny
when you were “honking.” “Where are you taking me?”

      
“Don’t get
your knickers in a twist. Just go with it.”

      
“Okay.” She
was too weak to protest.

      
Brant’s
room was large, with urban décor and a strong masculine touch. He set Chrissie
down on his California king-sized bed as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He
didn’t even bother with a shirt.

      
Chrissie
looked at Brant’s chest closely. He worked out in the sun without a shirt on. She
could tell because he was tan. Not an ounce of fat marred his chiseled muscles.
She decided she would dream about him later, when she didn’t feel she was on
the verge of puking any moment.

      
Brant
walked over to Chrissie, picked her back up, and carried her down the grand
staircase to the library.

      
“If you
would, you’re going to have to tilt the books for me. My hands are full.” Brant
smiled and nodded to the books.

      
Chrissie
tilted the rose book down with one hand and the Ponce De Leon book by reaching
it with her toe. The bookcase slid open. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to
that. It’s pretty cool. It’s like we’re in a life-size
Clue
game.” Chrissie’s lips bent up at the corners in a slight
smile. “Colonel Mustard, with the candlestick, in the library.” She grabbed the
lantern and turned it on for Brant as he carried her down the large spiral
steps.

      
Brant
chuckled. “Even when you’re on your deathbed, you have wit.”

“It’s
a coping mechanism nurses learn. They can find humor in the darkest and most gruesome
things.” She sighed. He was carrying her around like she was his doll. “You
know, I can walk. You’re going through too much trouble for me.”

      
“Not a
chance. I don’t want you to wimp out and puke again. Just hang tight, and we’ll
be there in a second.” Brant’s breathing showed no effort from carrying her.

      
“But aren’t
I heavy to carry all this way?”

      
“Nope.
Besides, this is the closest we’ve been since you came back. Don’t rob me of my
moment.” Brant winked.

      
They
finally made it to the door, and Brant was able to pull it open. He carried her
in the early morning sunlight all the way down and straight into the pool. The
water was up to his waist before he put Chrissie down.

      
“The
water’s effects are stronger here. It loses some of its power on the way up to
the house.”

      
 
The water was warm, but not hot. Steam
floated off the surface anyway, evaporating into the jungle air. Chrissie could
feel life slowly creeping back into her body as the nausea faded away.

      
“Don’t
freak out. I’m just going to take off my jeans … that’s all. I don’t want them
weighing me down in the water.” He took them off and spread them out in a sunny
spot on a large rock to dry. Chrissie turned and blushed, trying not to stare
was proving to be difficult. He swam to her and pulled her out to the middle of
the pool right above the bubbling. “Feeling better?”

      
“Much
better, thank you.”

      
“I like swimming
here better than in the house. When I’m working in the garden, it gets a little
warm in the afternoons, and it’s so nice to walk two feet and be able to jump
in and relax.”

      
“Is that
all you do? Work in the garden? How do you make a living?”

      
“Father
Delgado bought stocks in the U.S. stock market before he left. I’ve been
watching them grow all these years and have a nice income. Plus, my exotic
flower business is booming.”

      
“Must be
nice. I thought my student loans were going to be over my head forever before I
found out about this humanitarian project.”

      
“You are a
really good nurse.”

      
“How do you know?”

      
“My hand is all better.
See?” Brant held up his palm, and not even a scar was detectable from
yesterday’s accident.

      
“You didn’t
really cut it on the radiator, did you?”

      
“No. I cut
it with my pocket knife right before I entered the clinic.”
Brant smiled a
wide, lopsided grin.

      
“Why in the world would
you do that?”
 
She was alarmed that
he would cut his own hand just to get into the clinic to see her, but it made her
a bit gleeful that he liked her that much. Then in the next instant, she was
angry that he did it because of her. Her emotions tended to get all twisted up
and it took time to unravel them.
 

“Arturo
called and told me that you were going to get your job back, and I had to see
for myself if you were well enough for that.”

      
“You little
sneak! Arturo is such a tattletale.”

“No, Arturo
just did what he was told—to keep a close eye on you. He didn’t think you
were well enough to go back to work. It looks like he was right, considering
what happened this morning.”

      
“Yeah, that
was weird.” She lay on her back and floated on top of the water, watching the
clouds float by. She lost track of Brant for a while. He was off somewhere in
the pool. She felt back to full health when she climbed out of the water onto a
grassy patch and lay down in the sun to dry her pajamas.
She closed her
eyes and soaked in the sun.

      
Brant found her basking
when he plopped down next to her. “You want some breakfast? I went to the
kitchen and brought some back while you were swimming.”

      
“Wow, you
must’ve been in stealth mode. I didn’t even notice you leave.”

      
“No, you
were just enjoying yourself. María left us bagels and cream cheese, fruit, and
bacon.” Brant slid the tray over to Chrissie as she sat up.

      
“Where are María
and Arturo anyhow?”

      
“In town.
They’re selling produce this morning as per usual routine.” Brant spread a
thick layer of cream cheese on a bagel and gave it to Chrissie.

      
“Oh, yeah.
I knew that.” Chrissie had already eaten a few slices of bacon and was moving
on to the fruit before the bagel sidetracked her.

      
“I’m glad
you have an appetite.”

      
“The water
is amazing! But why can’t I drink it?”

      
“You just
need to be sure that’s what you want to do. One drink stops your aging.
Everyone around you will be getting older, and they will see you unchanged. It
might raise some questions. You would probably have to cut off contact with all
those you know after a little while.”

      
“Right.” Chrissie
could see the logic. “I’ll have to think about that one. You said I was going
to take it, though, before I got sick?”

      
“Yes,”
Brant said as he stared off into the pool.

      
“How did we
meet?”

      
“The
village was throwing a carnival party. They do it every year, sometimes twice a
year, just to celebrate being alive. They don’t need a reason to party. Anyway,
you were walking down the street with another nurse. You walked right by me,
and I thought to myself, ‘You have to go meet that bird. You’d be completely
crackers to let her slip by.’
 
So I
did what any normal male would do when he sees a beautiful woman… I followed
you for a bit until I had the guts to ask you to dance.” Brant started to
laugh. “
Adorro
was the first song.”

      
“I knew it
wasn’t a dream!” She was pleased that something rang true even if she didn’t
remember all the details. “What else?”

      
“We dated
for six months before you got sick. I hope that one day, you remember every
detail of where our love began.” His statement hung thick in the air, like
there was much more he wanted to say.

      
“I don’t
think I could ever get tired of this.” Chrissie said, changing the subject to a
cheerier topic of conversation. “Getting up early, going swimming, and eating
here in the garden, minus the whole puking part. It would be perfect.”

      
“Yeah, try
not to do that again. That loo will never be the same.”

      
Chrissie
stuck out her tongue at Brant like a spoiled child.

      
“So, what
are you going to do about the drug cartel guy in town?” Chrissie asked.

      
“I’m not
sure. I really don’t have anything to fight back with. They have man and gun
power. All I have is just me. Granted, I do have financial resources …”

      
“What if
you sent them special brownies made with the orange stuff?” Chrissie thought
that this would be a viable option.

      
“Really?”
Brant said incredulously. “You think drug cartel leaders would eat brownies
that magically appeared on their doorstep?”

      
“Don’t
hate. It might work. They
are
drug
dealers. Don’t they make special brownies all the time?” Chrissie nudged Brant
with her elbow. “Lighten up.”

      
“I do have
friends in the government, but so does the cartel so that route won’t do a bid of
good.”

      
“Boring.”
Chrissie sighed. “You should do something unexpected. Plus, now they know what
you look like. You can’t exactly walk the streets of the village without being
in danger.”

      
“Well,
neither can you. They saw you too. Either in the hotel or at the café, they’ve
seen you.”

      
“I didn’t
think about that. That means I can’t work at the clinic.” She frowned at the scary
thought she could be so vulnerable in the quiet little city. Her mansion perch
seemed much safer.

      
“Arturo and
María will have to be our eyes and ears to the village and the outside world.”

      
“Hey, isn’t
there anything else in this garden that would be valuable to him? Like a flower
or something that mimics you could trade for him to leave you alone?”

      
“Well, the
Delphne Star kills people the moment it’s inside their body, so that one is
out. I’m going to have to think about it. There are so many varieties of
flowers here. It would take weeks to research them all.”